Reassurance
by Qalam
Summary: Set post-Requiem. Tony's having nightmares about Gibbs drowning, and being unable to save him. Follows the events that spiral on from there. Alternates between Tony and Gibbs' POV. Father/son, and gen, as always.
1. Chapter 1

**It's been a while since I've watched Requiem, and I can't really remember exactly what Gibbs and Tony's respective houses are like, so *waves artistic license* Just suspend your disbelief a little for me =) **

**I don't own, or profit from this and I promise to replace my toys in the box they came from.**

**Thank you to Guest for pointing out my structural faux pas - it's sorted now :)**

* * *

**Tony's POV**

Gasping for breath as he awoke, Tony's fingers immediately latched onto his cell and were calling Gibbs' number before he had even managed to sit up straight, the overriding thought in his mind to make sure that the man was alive, that he was alright, not lying on a cold slab in some cold mortuary, dead despite all of Tony's efforts to save him.

By the time logic had reasserted itself, it was too late to cancel the call. So he pressed the cell to his ear gingerly and tried to think up some excuse.

It rang once, twice, three times and then was answered with a gruff, "Gibbs."

"Boss?" The word slipped out before Tony could do anything about it and he winced as he heard himself sound like a frightened child looking for reassurance.

It would be too much to hope that Gibbs hadn't heard his tone, but Tony hoped anyway, though any such illusion was firmly displaced when Gibbs said not 'DiNozzo', but "Tony," and then left an expectant silence for him to fill.

And fill it he did, though he wasn't really sure what he had said. He must have been waffling, because the next thing Gibbs said was, "Why did you call?" in a tone of voice that functioned quite effectively as a verbal head slap.

"It was a mistake Boss. I was playing around with my cell and – " he began, the lie sounding feeble to him even as he said it, though really, he should've known better than to try and lie to Gibbs of all people. Gibbs, who knew him better than anyone, with the notable exception of no-one.

Predictably, the boss didn't even give him a chance to finish his making-it-up-as-I-go-along explanation before interjecting, "At 0200 hours on a school night? Don't lie to me DiNozzo!"

Gibbs wanted answers – Tony recognised that tone of voice all too well – and he panicked. There was no way he wanted to discuss this with Gibbs now, so he made a feeble excuse, said goodbye and hung up before the lead agent could say anything else.

Then he let the handset fall from his hand onto the covers and stared at it, before it hit him:

_Oh._

He had just hung up – on Gibbs.

Tony groaned, dropping his head into his hands. Now what?

* * *

**Gibbs' POV**

An annoyingly persistent tune filtered its way into the sleeping agent's ears. It was familiar, and through the haze of sleep, Gibbs frowned as he tried to remember exactly why it was so.

Then, quite suddenly, his thoughts shifted into order and he rolled onto his side on the couch and reached out for the source of the dim light and irritatingly upbeat ringtone. Lifting the cell from where he had placed it on the coffee table the night before, he answered it as he brought it to his ear. "Gibbs."

"Boss?" The voice of one Very Special Agent sounded in his ear, and the former Marine was instantly on full alert.

Because in that one word, there had been more uncertainty and fear than Gibbs had heard in his agent's voice for a very long time.

He sat up, bare feet brushing against the cold hardwood floor and replied, "Tony."

The ensuing silence was soon filled by Tony babbling nervously, "Sorry to disturb you Boss, I just, er, I mean – "

Gibbs closed his eyes briefly and willed for patience. "Why did you call?"

"It was a mistake Boss," Tony began after a moment's pause, "I was playing around with my cell and – "

"At 0200 hours on a school night? Don't lie to me DiNozzo!" Gibbs snapped, his concern (as always) presenting itself as anger.

"Boss it's nothing, really," was it Gibbs' imagination or did his agent sound slightly panicked? "I'll see you at work, bye."

"DiNozzo – " There was a telltale click and Gibbs stared at the device in his hand in momentary shock; Tony had just hung up on him!?

Gibbs had already been pulling his shoes on, but now his gut twisted with a renewed urgency and he grabbed his jacket, badge, gun and car keys in one smooth sweep, before slipping out of the door.

* * *

**Your reviews are always appreciated so please let me know what you think =)**

**~ Qalam**


	2. Chapter 2

**First things first - you guys are absolutely AMAZING! My inbox was swamped with favourites, follows and reviews - you have no idea how brilliant a sight that was! So thank you to everyone who followed or favourited, and especially to those who took the time to review as well - you all sure know how to show the love xD**

**So here you go, an earlier-than-planned update because you are all awesome =D**

**Standard disclaimers apply.**

* * *

**Tony's POV**

Tony stayed in that position, head held in hands for what seemed like an eternity, not wanting to go back to sleep for fear of what awaited him there, yet lacking both the energy and the will to get out of bed.

He must have dozed off anyway, because the next thing he knew, he was keeled over awkwardly on his side, half under, half on top of the covers, and his cell was ringing.

Without bothering to sit up, he groped around for it, hit the answer button and held it to his ear with a muttered "Hello?"

"DiNozzo!"

Tony sat up immediately, as though Gibbs was actually in the room with him. "Boss?

"Open the door will ya," the senior agent sounded irritated to say the least, "My coffee's going cold."

Tony grabbed his dressing gown from the end of the bed, throwing it on over his pyjamas and knotting it hastily as he made his way towards the door.

He pulled it open, and was greeted by the scowling face of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Said man slipped past him into the apartment without a word, thrusting a styrofoam cup into Tony's hand as he went.

Pushing the door shut with his foot, Tony turned the key slowly in the lock, using the time to pull himself together.

He half–expected Gibbs to make some sort of comment but the silver–haired man was quietly sipping his coffee when Tony finally turned around.

His apartment was small; cosy, he liked to call it. But as he recalled calling Gibbs after his nightmare, and the ensuing fiasco of a conversation that had followed, it suddenly seemed stifling and oppressive, and the urge to unlock the door and make an escape was becoming stronger by the second.

But Anthony DiNozzo was nothing if not stubborn, and that coupled with the fact that he knew Gibbs would get an answer out of him sooner or later made him cross over to the couch.

Sitting down on the opposite end to Gibbs, he took a huge gulp of coffee to distract himself from his predicament.

It promptly went down the wrong way and Tony choked, spluttering coffee all over himself. He would have had the rest of the cup on him too, had Gibbs not quickly grabbed it off him, tucked it into the crook of his right arm and proceeded to thump Tony firmly on the back.

The senior field agent swallowed and rubbed his throat gingerly as his cheeks turned red with embarrassment .

He threw a swift sideways glance at his boss and managed a, "Thanks Boss - uh, excuse me," before fleeing to the relative safety of his bedroom.

Shutting the door, he let his forehead impact against it with a dull thunk, once, twice, and then stood there for a moment or two, before heaving a resigned sigh.

Switching the light on, he quickly changed into sweatshirt and pants, and ran a hand briefly through his short cropped hair. Crossing back to the bedroom door, he pulled it open and strode out before he could think about it too much.

He retook his previous spot on the couch, although he made no move to pick his coffee up from where it was now sat on the table - one mortifying incident was enough for him, thank _you_ very much.

Playing dumb was not going to work for long, Tony knew, but he couldn't help but try and wriggle his way out of the situation regardless - DiNozzos didn't need to talk about things, they just dealt with them as they came, and moved on.

...Ah, who was he kidding? Obviously not Gibbs anyway.

* * *

**I know it's a little short, but updates will be regular. Let me know what you think!**

**~ Qalam**


	3. Chapter 3

**So, I admit that this turned out a little fluffier than planned, so I suppose there should be a warning for softie!PapaBear!Gibbs...which is always good, right? *bounces nervously* Oh, and also vulnerable!Tony makes a notable appearance too.**

**All l have left to say is thank yous and choc chip cookies all around for your continued support, you people =) Oh, and that I don't own these guys.**

* * *

**Gibbs' POV**

When Tony finally looked at him, it was to ask, quite bluntly in fact, "Do we have a case Boss?"

Gibbs looked at him with a raised eyebrow - DiNozzo knew why he was here, he could tell. But he decided to humour the younger man for now and replied in his usual brusque tone, "Would I be sitting here if we had a case DiNozzo?" and was rewarded by the sight of Tony's stiff posture relaxing somewhat.

The usual cheeky grin lit up the younger man's face for a moment as he answered the rhetorical question with a, "Well, you couldn't solve a case without me so - " Then he caught the unamused look on Gibbs' face and hastily backtracked. "No, no, of course you wouldn't be here if we had a case Boss." An almost imperceptible pause. "So why are you here then?" Tony asked, adding hastily, "Not that I don't enjoy your company at," a quick glance at the clock on the wall, "twenty-five to three in the morning."

There was a slight smirk on Gibbs' face as he watched Tony dig himself a hole, jump in, and then fill it again, but that soon disappeared when he realised that if he let him, Tony would just dance around the actual matter in hand forever.

So Gibbs jumped straight to the heart of the matter, as was his penchant. "Why did you call me earlier DiNozzo?"

The younger man immediately stiffened again, and didn't answer, looking anywhere but at his boss. Gibbs waited, then reached out and took Tony's chin in his hand to make him look at him. "What happened?"

The green eyes ducked away from his own as his agent tried to pull away, but Gibbs wouldn't let him.

"Tony."

At the unusually soft tone of voice, Tony's eyes returned to his. Then he reached up to where Gibbs' hand was still holding his chin, and taking it in his own, moved it away.

To the lead agent's surprise though, Tony didn't let go of it, seemingly oblivious to the fact as he looked down at his feet and muttered something inaudibly.

When no response was forthcoming from Gibbs, Tony repeated himself. "I had a nightmare," came the admittance, louder this time.

"About what?"

Tony's mouth worked as if he was trying to bring himself to say something but just couldn't quite do it. Gibbs held his breath and felt Tony's hand tighten around his, ignoring the Italian's embarrassment when he looked down and realised he was clutching onto his boss's hand for dear life.

The younger man closed up, lips pressing together in a thin line, and but Gibbs was having none of it, and repeated insistently, "About what?"

Tony swallowed and kept his eyes fixed on their joined hands as he replied, voice reverting to little more than a whisper.

"About you."

Gibbs was stunned. He hadn't expected himself to have had anything to do with it - he'd just thought that Tony had rang him to hear a familiar voice...but this made perfect sense now - in fact, he'd been more than a little blind to miss it.

Tony was still speaking, curtly, in short sentences, as if that somehow made the whole thing easier to bear. "You died. Drowned. I...I..._couldn't_ - " And suddenly the green eyes were searching his for answers, with a desperation, a pleading in them that made Gibbs' heart give a painful twinge.

He reached for Tony's other hand and held them both tightly to ground him, to reassure him that he was there and his eyes never left those of the man who he had come to think of as his son the whole while he waited for him to calm.

It was then that Gibbs spoke, voice slow and earnest as he endeavored to express himself in a manner that was a little freer than usual.

"No, Tony. You could, and you _did_, otherwise I wouldn't be here. You had my six like you always do - and there is no-one else I would rather have watching my back."

His SFA's eyes widened but Gibbs wasn't finished yet. There was one thing left for him to say, that he should've said a long time before.

"I'm so proud of you, Tony."

The look of wonder that crept into those green eyes at that was brilliant to see, as was the supernova smile that soon followed - and contagious too it seemed, for Gibbs could not help the grin that spread across his face in reply.

Nor, he found, did he particularly want to.

* * *

**Let me know what you think!**

**~ Qalam**


	4. Chapter 4

**So...initially I was planning for the previous chapter to be my last. Then I was going to add a little more to the end of this, and leave it as an open-ended ending. **

**Now? I have a vague idea of where this is going, but updates may be a little sporadic, though I'll do my best. I have an idea that's in the back of my head, for a story in another fandom and that's going all rabid-plot-bunny on me, but I've decided to put that off, because I really want do this justice; and it wouldn't be fair on you guys either.**

**The second bit is purposefully light-hearted, so don't take it too seriously please - Tony deserved a little fun after all those nightmares, don't you think?**

**Oh, and kudos to you if you remember which of Gibbs' rules the end line is a reference to :)**

**Thank you all for your follows, faves and especially for taking the time to review - it's very muchly appreciated =) ****And I don't own these guys - but you already knew that.**

* * *

**Tony's POV**

Tony knew he looked like an idiot, sitting there holding Gibbs' hands tight as he grinned so wide he could've given the Cheshire Cat a run for its money; but he just couldn't help himself.

He had known that Gibbs was proud of him - no, the older man had never stated it as such before, but it had always been evident in the rare praise and the occasional look in those piercing blue eyes.

The desire to hear it being said had always been there, though he had all but refused to acknowledge it, even in the privacy of his own mind - he hated to feel needy, or dependent - even upon Gibbs, who he thought of as a father figure.

But those reservations seemed inconsequential in comparison to the feeling that had enveloped him upon hearing those precious few words, and Tony wished with all his heart that he could cling onto this contentment forever.

After several moments, Gibbs tightened the pressure of his hands in Tony's, and then let go, pulling back to rest them on his knees.

The younger man ducked his head a little, rubbing the back of his neck before clasping his own hands together and placing them in his lap. He itched to fill the silence, and opened his mouth to say something but Gibbs, who was surprising him at every turn tonight, beat him to it.

"Up you get."

Tony tilted his head quizzically at his boss as he stood, trying to figure out _what_ exactly Gibbs was up to now.

In reply, the former marine jerked his head in the direction of the bedroom. "Go get some sleep - you've still got enough time to catch forty winks before we get back to solving those cold cases."

Tony pulled a face but made to go, before stopping to inquire hesitantly, "What about you Boss?"

Gibbs stood and moved towards the kitchenette, throwing over his shoulder with his usual half-smirk, "I'm gonna see if there's any decent coffee in this place."

An indignant Tony began to retort, but instead fell prey to an almighty yawn, earning himself a pointed look and a "Go on, _get_ DiNozzo!" from Gibbs, who was currently rummaging the cupboards.

With a long-suffering sigh, Tony did as he was told and went to bed, though he left his door carefully ajar so he could still hear Gibbs' tuneless humming as he fixed himself a cup of coffee.

One hand tucked beneath his head, with his eyes closed as his chest rose and fell steadily, Tony was treading the fine line between sleeping and wakefulness, when he registered soft footsteps and the noise of wood against flooring as Gibbs drew up a chair.

The wordless reassurance of his presence promised to keep the nightmares away, and was enough to tip the balance in sleep's favour.

* * *

The former Marine sat a still and silent vigil for the rest of the night, to the extent that an onlooker could be forgiven for mistaking him for a non-sentient object.

In reality however, the stillness of his body was no indication of his state of mind. Gibbs had an inkling that they had only touched the tip of the iceberg last night, the bags beneath Tony's eyes indicated that this had been more than a one-off occurrence, in which case tonight's nightmare must have been especially horrible for Tony to lose himself enough to call, seen as though he hadn't before.

These suspicions were only confirmed by the fact that Tony was waking at least once every hour, soundlessly, which made Gibbs glad he had sat by him. The younger man settled back down to sleep again fairly quickly upon seeing him - but this was not right - there was something else he was missing here. Gibbs had half a mind to ask Tony, but then he reconsidered - some rest was better than none at all - and anyway, the agent had a suspicion this wouldn't be the last night he would be spending over here. There was no way he was going to make the mistake of letting Tony 'deal' with this by himself - suppression was not the answer.

At around seven o'clock Gibbs stirred from his ruminations, and padded his way into the small kitchen. A poke of his head into the fridge and the cupboards revealed that there were only the bare necessities, in other words all the ingredients necessary to making pancakes - something he had not done in a long time; for as with almost everything in his life, the memories that it prompted were almost too much to bear.

Today however, Gibbs acknowledged those memories of his girls with a small smile that flitted over his face as he mixed the batter - he still missed them, but he was so grateful for every moment, every memory that he had shared with them, and everything they had taught him - today, Gibbs tried to focus instead upon those feelings, and he knew that was what they would have wanted.

So when Tony's alarm went off and he stumbled out of the bedroom on the way to the bathroom, still half-asleep, he was met by the sight of Gibbs - _Gibbs!_ - casually flipping pancakes.

The lead agent was fairly surprised when not a single comment slipped past the younger man's lips - Tony wasn't generally the type to hesitate to speak his mind.

When he returned from the bathroom, Tony perched on the edge of the couch, watching the pancake flipping with something that Gibbs thought may have been envy.

"You ever made pancakes before DiNozzo?" he inquired casually; DiNozzo Sr didn't strike him as the pancake flipping type, and Gibbs didn't know how much Tony remembered about his mother, even if she had been.

"Nope," Tony replied off-handedly, even as his eyes tracked Gibbs' every move.

Of course, the investigator wasn't fooled by that, but felt there had been more than enough soul-searching for both of them last night and played along - for now. "Well, I hope you learn fast then," he said, tone just as unconcerned as Tony's, "Come take over - I've got coffee to brew."

Tony went over and watched as Gibbs demonstrated a perfect pancake from start to finish, before he relinquished the pan and batter to Tony.

The senior field agent was quiet as he began, a sure sign that the task was taking all his concentration. Gibbs watched from the corner of his eye as he made the coffee; Tony was doing well, to say it was his first attempt - until it came to flipping.

At first he was too tentative, and the pancake barely lifted from the pan. Once, twice, it flopped over onto itself and frustrated, Tony over-compensated and sent the pancake ceiling-ward, where it stuck briefly before dropping back into the pan in a limp, crumpled pile.

Gibbs snorted in a half-hearted attempt to contain his laughter and Tony pouted, before dumping the failed attempt in the trash and determinedly starting again.

Twice more the same thing happened but Tony, typically, refused to give in. When it got to the flipping stage for the fourth time though, Gibbs took mercy on him, and put his hand over Tony's on the handle, and flicking his wrist just so, sending the pancake into the air and catching it as it came down on the opposite side. "Ya see DiNozzo? It's all in the wrist."

Tony nodded. "I've got it Boss. No pancake is going to beat this Very Special Agent."

Gibbs peered into the bowl containing the batter. "Well, you've only got one chance DiNozzo," he informed him.

"No problemo," the younger man said glibly, and proceeded to flip it perfectly the first time with a beatific smile, before he glanced briefly at Gibbs who looked up at the ceiling in mock-confusion. "You mean you weren't _aiming_ up there DiNozzo?" he smirked, and reached for a pancake.

Tony promptly whisked the plate away with a cheeky grin, and took it over to the table. Gibbs raised an eyebrow and settled for delivering a head slap as he sat, before both men tucked in.

Gibbs looked askance at Tony's plate, that held pancakes smothered in honey - apparently, Tony had never needed syrup before - but refrained from commenting as the younger man ate as though he'd survived through a seven-season famine.

But Tony caught the dubious look and sprung to his pancake topping's defense. "It's good Boss, try it!" Unperturbed by the glare, he sing-songed, "Can't like if if you haven't tried it," and squeezed the tiniest amount of honey onto the half-eaten pancake on Gibbs's plate.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked.

Tony started and pulled his hands back as if burned.

The blue glare did not soften, and eyes wide, Tony gingerly removed the honeyed pancake from Gibbs's plate to his own, and replaced it with a fresh one.

At that, Gibbs stopped trying to bore a hole in his agent's head by willpower alone, and carried on with his breakfast.

Tony exhaled silently. _Note to self: Rule #23 can also extend to pancakes._

* * *

**You know what the funny thing is? I don't even particularly like pancakes xD**

**Thoughts/ideas? Share them! =)**

**~ Qalam**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello again! =) Here's the next instalment, I've literally just finished it and read it over, so you guys can't accuse me of holding back on you :P I know some people are really eager for the father/son confessions, but I now actually have an idea of where this is going, and like I said before, I'm not prepared to rush it.**

**I don't own these guys, and your support & reviews are the only things I gain =)**

* * *

**Tony's POV**

Upon entering the bullpen, Tony dumped his bag behind his desk and dropped into his chair. Momentarily, he stared across at Gibbs's desk; the older man had left his apartment in his own car, saying that he needed to drop by his own place and would meet him at work.

Shaking his head slightly, Tony pulled the file of the cold case that he had left off yesterday towards him, and got to work.

Ziva arrived a few minutes later and nodded wordlessly at Tony in greeting, who replied in kind, before refocusing on the case file.

Tim however, made a much more dramatic entrance, pretty much running into the bullpen twenty minutes later, only slowing down when he saw Gibbs's desk was empty.

Tony grinned at him. "Cutting it a little close there aren't we Probie? Another," a quick glance at his watch, "thirty seconds and you would have been late."

Tim rolled his eyes in response and had barely settled behind his desk and began to work when Gibbs strode in, customary styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand.

"McGee!" Gibbs barked, and Tim looked up from his keyboard in time to see and intercept the cell phone that followed. "Change the noise this thing makes when it rings."

"The ringtone," Tony corrected automatically, and then clamped his mouth shut with a wince.

Gibbs turned to him and glared. "Did you _say_ something DiNozzo?" Tony shook his head earnestly, eyes wide. Satisfied, the older man made for the stairs leading to the director's office and Tim called after him, "Um, change it to what Boss?"

Gibbs waved his hand carelessly without turning around.

"Something less annoying McGee," he threw back over his shoulder, and Tim looked from the phone to Gibbs's receding back, to the phone again, and sighed.

"What are the chances that there's a ringtone on here that Gibbs likes?"

Ziva and Tony gave Tim a look, and the younger agent spread his hands. "I take your point. A better question would be, 'what are the chances that there's a ringtone on here that Gibbs'll _put up_ with?'"

There was a moment's silence, and then Tony shook his head gravely. "I wouldn't hold your breath Probie."

Tim ran a hand through his hair resignedly. "Thought as much."

If someone had told Tony then that was the most exciting thing that was going to happen all day, he would've scoffed and replied something along the lines of, _"Yeah, and Gibbs is going to swear off coffee."_ A few hours later though and Tony was trying to remember if they'd ever had a more uneventful day at NCIS - no case, no head slaps, not even so much as an unexpected phone call - and was failing miserably.

On the bright side however, the team were all free to leave at a decent time for once. McGee and Ziva both made a beeline for the elevator the instant they were allowed, as if lingering might increase the chances of a case coming up, and Tony was about to follow them out. In fact, he even got so far as the elevator doors before a yell of "DiNozzo!" summoned him back to the dimly lit bullpen.

Readjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, Tony walked back, coming to a stop before Gibbs's desk with a tired but expectant, "What is it Boss?" as he firmly quashed any thoughts of getting an early night tonight.

But when Gibbs spoke, it was not to give him more work to do, only to ask, "Where are you headed?"

Thrown, Tony stared at his boss's face a moment before replying hesitantly, "Uh, home, Boss?"

"I'll be done in about half an hour - pizza do you for tonight?"

The confusion that Tony now felt was quite overwhelming, and apparently showed on his face for Gibbs added, head tilted slightly to the side, "Ya think I was gonna leave you alone after last night?"

_Yes_, Tony thought to himself, though he didn't deign to say as much, opting to remain silent rather than opening up for Gibbs's scrutiny.

But whether or not he said anything, Gibbs still read between the lines and at what he saw, the older man sat back a little in his chair, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he ran a hand through his silver hair.

Tony wavered, wondering if that was a dismissal, before Gibbs jerked his head in the direction of Tony's desk. "Grab a chair DiNozzo - we need to talk," the former Marine spoke quietly but firmly.

But this time, the Italian stood his ground. "Boss, I really just wanna get home, eat, and sleep - please?"

The request was met with silence and Tony bore the assessing gaze patiently, until finally, Gibbs nodded abruptly. "Fine. But I'm with you until we sort this out."

Immediately, Tony began to protest, though any hope of swaying Gibbs on his decision soon died as Gibbs gave him a hard stare - wisely, the younger man decided not to push his luck - after all, one out of two was pretty good against the boss.

So he wandered around the bullpen as he waited for Gibbs to complete his work, pausing at Tim's desk thoughtfully, before rearranging everything that was on top and in the drawers.

Barely had he finished that Gibbs said, "Get McGee's desk back to how it used to be DiNozzo," without looking up from his report, and the satisfied grin slipped from Tony's face.

"But Boss," he began, "I don't remember how - "

"You'll manage, or else it'll be a salad tonight instead of pizza," Gibbs cut him off, still without glancing up, voice completely devoid of any sympathy.

Tony stared at Gibbs, horrified, before deciding that the threat was real and hurriedly began to restore Tim's desk to its former state, totally missing the slight smirk on the former Marine's face as he carried on working.

* * *

**Let me know what you think! =)**

**~ Qalam**


	6. Chapter 6

**The next instalment is here! :) And I have nothing else to say, except ****_thank you_**** to all of you for your continuing support. Those of you who always review (you know who you are) you are AMAZING and so very appreciated =) So this chapter is dedicated to you.**

**Warnings for a suicide attempt.**

**And I don't own these guys. Except...well, you'll know him when you see him. **

* * *

**Tony's POV**

Tony managed to restore Tim's desk back to its former well-organised state in the nick of time, reconnecting the mouse to the computer just as Gibbs finished his report and stood from his desk.

Slinging his bag back over his shoulder, Tony spread his hands in Gibbs's direction placatingly. "All done!" he announced with a smile, and held his breath as the Marine ran a cursory eye over Tim's desk.

A slight nod told Tony that pizza was still on the menu for tonight and he gave a tiny sigh of relief, hurrying after Gibbs as the older man strode towards the elevator.

Waiting for the elevator to reach the car park, both men pulled out car keys from their respective pockets, and then paused, exchanging a wordless conversation that consisted of a tilted head from Tony and a raised eyebrow on Gibbs's part.

With a sigh, the Italian thrust his keys back into his pocket, and then the elevator doors opened, revealing an almost empty car park.

Gibbs unlocked the car as they walked towards it, and Tony pulled open the passenger door and slipped into the seat, firmly clipping his seatbelt into place with a brief but fervent prayer that they would both still be alive at the end of this journey.

The lead agent pulled out of the parking space surprisingly smoothly, and Tony relaxed, only to be pushed back further into his seat as the kamikaze driver pressed the accelerator hard and pulled out onto the main road with a screech of tyres.

Tony held onto the door handle for dear life, eyes half-closed in a permanent wince. As a result, when the car finally came to a (abrupt) halt, the younger man had no idea where they were. Working to prize white-knuckled fingers from the handle he had no doubt strangled the life out of, Tony looked around and saw that they were pulled up outside his favourite pizzeria. The Italian blinked in surprise and glanced at his watch that told him Gibbs had managed somehow to _quarter_ the journey time.

A small, disbelieving grin lit up Tony's face and Gibbs, who had already gotten out, knocked on his window with a look that quite clearly said, _"What're you waiting for DiNozzo?"_ He scrambled to get out, following Gibbs to the doors and wincing as he pulled at them once, then harder the second time with an irritated growl when they didn't open.

"They're _push-y_ doors boss," Tony pointed out helpfully. "There's even a label there..." he tailed off as Gibbs shoved the door inwards with more than a little unnecessary force, and lunged to grab at the handle before the glass door could crash against the wall.

Stepping into the brightly lit pizzeria, they queued to place their order and then settled down to wait, Tony perching on one of the chairs closest to the door, whilst Gibbs leaned against the wall, both men staring out of the glass doors.

Tony's eyes wandered down the road to the stone parapets that overlooked the river, and then slowly he sat forward in his chair, eyes squinted. _Was it just a trick of light, or was that...?_

He looked for Gibbs as he rose from his seat, and found the man somehow already by his side, gaze trained in the direction of the river.

Their eyes met briefly, and then Gibbs was yanking open the glass door, Tony on his heels as they made for silhouette atop of the parapet.

As they drew closer, the silhouette became discernible as the form of a male teenager, who spun around precariously to face them as they approached, and both men stopped a foot or two away, not wanting to spook him.

The kid had a gun, Tony saw with a sinking feeling in his gut, that was being pressed by a shaking hand to his right temple.

"_Don't!_" The boy held his other hand out as if to ward them away, pressing the gun harder against his temple and Tony spread his hands out, palms upward in a placating gesture that he irrelevantly noted was what he had done earlier - the difference being that this time it was to save something much more important.

"My name's Tony, and this is Gibbs," Tony's voice was was even as he introduced them both. "What's your name?" he continued softly, and received a shaky reply of, "It doesn't matter!"

"It does to me," the senior field agent replied, green eyes holding the teen's dark ones as he shifted agitatedly on the parapet.

A long pause in which Tony felt himself being sized up, and then, "Nicky."

"Alright Nicky," Tony noticed the wary looks that the kid was shooting Gibbs, and played on his instinct. "Gibbs, why don't you go and pick up the pizza."

That casual suggestion was one that Gibbs took up instantly, having also seen the looks he was on the receiving end of, but that was not to say he wanted to turn his back on his agent and the kid - in fact everything in him was having a panic attack at it, but he couldn't turn back now - a life could very well depend on that.

Tony heard Gibbs's even-paced footsteps as he walked away, but they only actually registered in the back of his mind somewhere. The rest of his brain was engaged in formulating things to say and then discarding them, and formulating something else instead.

"What happened?" he settled for inquiring gently, and Nicky's hand tightened around the handgrip, and Tony was suddenly, horribly aware of the disproportionately tiny movement that it would take for a life to be irrevocably lost before his very eyes.

"Why should you care? You don't even know me."

The question was quietly sincere, and Tony felt a pang in his heart for the kid. "No, I don't know you - but I'd like to, if you'll give me a chance."

"I just don't wanna do this anymore," Nicky's voice cracked. "It's not worth it! Nobody cares, so why should I? No-one's gonna miss me when I'm gone anyway - the only person that would've is already dead."

"Who was that?"

"My mum." Nicky bit his lip as his face crumpled and Tony saw the gun drop a fraction before it jerked back upwards. "But she shot herself, so she _couldn't_ have cared either, otherwise she wouldn't have done it!" He was shouting now and Tony just stood and listened, trying to understand.

"I just don't know what's going on anymore," Nicky's voice dropped and the teenager sounded, more than anything, tired and lonely.

Tony's eyes had never left Nicky's face, and now, slowly, he stepped forward, so he was within touching distance, though he kept his hands firmly by his sides.

"I might not know you Nicky, but I want to help - you're not alone."

Nicky wavered and then dropped the gun from his temple, though he still held it clutched tightly in his hand. He moved his leg and for a terrible moment Tony thought that he was going to jump anyway, until Nicky dropped down to sit on the stone parapet, back turned to the river as he rubbed his free hand across his eyes.

Tony waited for Nicky to look up once more, and then pulled himself up next to the teenager on the parapet.

"Are you a cop?" came the abrupt question from the boy sitting next to him and Tony looked at him in surprise. In reply, Nicky pointed at the badge currently hidden underneath his suit jacket and Tony realised it must have shown when he pulled himself up.

"No, I'm not a cop, I'm an NCIS agent," Tony responded carefully, and Nicky looked at him dubiously.

"NCIS," he repeated slowly, before shrugging. "Never heard of them."

Tony sighed dramatically. "Nope, nobody ever has. Stands for Naval Criminal Investigative Service."

Nicky raised an eyebrow warily. "So...you're a Navy cop."

Tony hummed thoughtfully. "Sort of, but NCIS agent sounds better. I mean, imagine you went up to someone and said, 'Hi, I'm a Navy cop,' and then imagine you went up to the same person and said, 'Hi, I'm an NCIS agent.'" The SFA drawled the last two words and received a strange but amused look from Nicky for his troubles.

"They'd tell you to make your mind up," the teenager commented dryly, and Tony noticed that despite his flippancy, Nicky was sitting stiffly and there was the slightest tremor running through him. He was jittery - and still holding a gun.

Tony hadn't forgotten about the firearm in the teenager's hand as he made light conversation, but was trying to figure out the best way of going about getting it off of him, when Nicky solved the problem for him and held it out, with a quiet, "Here."

Tony moved to take it - and that's when it happened.

The door to a pub across the road slammed open and Nicky jumped.

His finger tightened reflexively on the trigger.

_Bang_.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, even if it's just a sentence or two! =)**

**~ Qalam**


	7. Chapter 7

**The response I recieved to the last chapter was overwhelming and very humbling - every one of your comments brought a grin to my face too and...reviews now total to over 100! O_O Thank you everyone who made that possible by reviewing! =) And to my ghost readers out there, I see and appreciate you too :) Maybe leave a review this time? :P**

**I don't own these guys, apart from Nicky, whom I'm actually sort of fond of, though you're welcome to borrow him if you ask first :)**

* * *

**Gibbs' POV**

Gibbs walked away from his agent and the teenager, catching the sound of Tony asking Nicky _'What happened?'_ before he was out of earshot.

The lead agent didn't hesitate as he came up to the pizza parlour and opened the doors without difficulty the first time; thanks to a small prompt of_ 'push-y doors!'_ from his brain. Nor did he look back as he stepped in, ignoring the feeling of apprehension that was churning in his gut.

Only when he had collected and placed the pizza in the car, and closed the door once more, did Gibbs let himself glance at the situation that was the cause of his unease.

He was in time to see Nicky drop the gun from his temple and Tony proceed to pull himself up beside him on the parapet. Exhaling a little heavier than usual, Gibbs allowed himself to lean against the roof of the car, shoulders dropping slightly as he watched his SFA gesture emphatically as he talked.

All he was waiting for was for Tony to get the gun off the boy, and as if in response to his thoughts (though Gibbs would never have been so fanciful as to believe such a thing) Gibbs saw the teen turn his body towards Tony and reach out to hand him the gun, and began to step around the car to head towards them.

And of course, _that_ was when it happened.

The sight of Nicky jumping and Tony recoiling were followed respectively by the sounds of a slamming door and a gunshot - it was like watching a badly dubbed film - except this was real.

Gibbs broke into a run, eyes glued to the sight of Tony jerking backwards and over-balancing with a sharp cry.

He was too far away to do anything but watch helplessly as Tony plunged over the parapet, and when he did finally reach it, momentum carrying him straight into a collision with the stone, he ignored the pain of the impact and stared over the edge, in time to see the spreading ripples and a dark shape that began to fade as it sank.

The only sounds in those moments were the ragged breaths of the teenager that was leaning over the parapet with him, the sound of the gun knocking against the stone before dropping into the water from Nicky's suddenly listless fingers coupled with his horrified whisper of 'Oh God - oh _God!_' - because Gibbs was totally and utterly silent as he watched the water, willing Tony to resurface.

The ripples began to disperse and when it became apparent that Tony was not going to resurface with his customary hundred watt grin and a movie reference, the lead agent whirled around to face Nicky. The young man flinched, and although Gibbs tried to tone his voice down, his instruction still came out as a brittle snap of _'Call 911 - tell them he had the plague!'_ as he thrust his cell into Nicky's hand and made to leap over the parapet after the conspicuously not-reappearing Tony.

The stark terror in the boy's dark eyes reminded him of the situation Nicky had just been in, and Gibbs paused, poised to jump, caught his gaze and said with all the reassurance he could muster, "You'll do fine."

Eyes fixed back on the centre of the source of the ripples, the former Marine jumped.

The air rushed up, snapped his open jacket back against his arms for the briefest of moments before he hit the water and any little breath left in his body was knocked out of him.

He went straight under and then resurfaced, paused only to take in a deep gulp of air before diving back down and scouring the waters for his agent. The water stung his eyes but he stubbornly overrode the instinct to blink and the equally strong rush of panic when he failed to find Tony.

Air was leaking from Gibbs' mouth and nose at an alarming rate, and in a few seconds there would be no choice but for him to resurface to prevent his lungs from burning their way out of his body, but those few seconds he took for himself could very well be Tony's last - in desperation, he pushed himself a little deeper and spied a darker, solid, Very-Special-Agent-shaped shadow. Bubbles bled from Tony's nose and mouth but that meant that he was alive, even if he was unconscious, blood twirling like steam from his wound as it dispersed in the murky waters.

Gibbs latched onto him and kicked upwards, lungs screaming. He lost the fight against his body's traitorous reflexes halfway up and began gasping in water even as he struggled against himself, the liquid searing down his throat - like sandpaper against the sensitive flesh.

Somehow he managed to break the surface, gagging as he propelled Tony and himself towards the bank, sight dancing with static.

Fluorescent blotches suddenly obscured his already-impaired vision but Gibbs soon recognised them for what they were - paramedics. He shoved Tony to them as best he could with his arms feeling as if they'd been replaced with heavy rubber tentacles, and began to tell them about Tony's scarred lungs, before one of the blotches reassured him that they had '_already been informed of that by the young gentleman over there._'

Hands pulled him out of the water, but Gibbs only had eyes for Tony's blurry form as he was loaded into an ambulance amidst a huddle of medics.

Once on solid land the former Marine tried to brush the paramedics off, but apparently what with his hair plastered to his skull, the water he was still coughing up, and his reddened eyes from the dubiously murky water, they were not convinced by his assurances of his health.

With a growl, Gibbs fumbled for his NCIS badge and held it up, which served to delay the personnel around him long enough that he could make a break towards the ambulance holding Tony.

But what Gibbs didn't factor into the equation, as he stepped in the direction of Tony, was the sudden peculiar buzzing that filled his ears and everything going an odd shade of reddish black.

* * *

***hides* That doesn't count as a cliffhanger, does it?**

**Thoughts, as you well know by now, are very muchly appreciated! =)**

**~ Qalam**


	8. Chapter 8

**I've been a bit busy of late - my BA in Islamic Sciences starts on the 1st and I've been running around like a headless chicken paying my fees & getting books etc. *bounces excitedly* I can't wait for it to start :) **

**Anyway, I know you guys aren't here for an update on my life :P So thank you everyone who took the time to review, and all those of you who are following and favouriting, you are so awesomely amazing! So here's my longest chapter yet to show my appreciation. =)**

**I don't own these guys.**

* * *

**Gibbs' POV**

The lead agent was a man of few words usually, though not generally the quietest patient, but the burning sensation in his throat still lingered, so he had remained mute for the most part since he had awoken, except to inquire after Tony repeatedly.

Gibbs was told - after he attempted to pull out the suction catheter that was being used to remove the water he had inhaled into his lungs and go find out for himself - that Tony was in ICU.

Upon hearing that, he paused to get under control the paternal side of him that that had inwardly began to run around screaming like a headless chicken. That took considerably longer than he would've expected of himself, and in the interval the suction catheter was removed. Gibbs gagged, rubbing his throat gingerly and then promptly disregarded the doctor's instructions not to talk as he asked for Doctor Mallard to be contacted and informed about Tony's condition.

The Medical Examiner arrived with all haste and after checking for more details on Tony's condition, immediately made his way to his friend's room, knowing that Gibbs would be driving the medical staff to their wits' ends, in lieu of being unable to see his boy.

He slipped into the room and the nurse left with a quiet sigh of relief once the doctor had identified himself.

"How is he Duck?" Came the abrupt though entirely predictable question.

"Our Anthony is being treated by Doctor Pitt, and I have been informed that he is in a critical condition," Gibbs's whole body tensed at Ducky's somber tone and the older man came over to him as he continued, "but he was incredibly fortunate - had the bullet been around three inches higher..."

Gibbs's fists curled in the blanket as he finished that thought in his mind and Ducky placed a hand on his shoulder, adding when the younger man looked up at him, concern showing clearly on his face, "He is a fighter Jethro, I have faith in our dear boy," and the former Marine nodded sharply in response.

The news that Doctor Pitt was treating Tony reassured Gibbs somewhat - Tony was in the hands of someone who was familiar with his case, but '_somewhat_' was still the highest his '_at ease_' gauge would reach - at least until DiNozzo was in front of him and well enough that he could head slap him silly for scaring him.

Gibbs sat in silence as this all ran through his mind, before he abruptly remembered about the boy who had almost committed suicide and had shot Tony accidentally.

"Do me a favour Duck, and find out what happened to Nicky, the kid that called the ambulance."

The ME made to leave, then hesitated. "Would this be the young man who shot Anthony?"

"Yeah Duck," Gibbs confirmed, adding at hint of steel that had crept into the older man's usually compassionate eyes, "but it was a mistake."

At the question in Dr Mallard's eyes, he sighed and summarised briefly what had happened, though he didn't mention why he had been with his SFA on the way home - had it really only been this morning that he had teased a healthy Tony about sticking pancakes to the ceiling?

Ducky left to enquire after the boy, and returned promptly with a, "Mr Nicholas Quinn has been treated for shock and released, apparently he went to the waiting area and is still there waiting to hear about Anthony's progress."

Gibbs nodded in acknowledgment, and then made to swing his legs out of bed when Ducky held up a hand to stop by him.

"You are not cleared to leave yet Jethro - you're being kept in for observation overnight, due to your previous and still recent near drowning experience."

"I'm going to check on Tony and see Nicky - I'm not leaving," Gibbs shot back, but this particular doctor was just as quick and retorted, "I can call Mr Quinn here for you Jethro, whilst I go and enquire about Anthony's progress - but it is unlikely that you will be allowed to see him, for the next few hours at least."

The lead agent stared at the ME hard, and Ducky held the piercing gaze with an ease and tolerance borne from practice, and then Gibbs sat back with a growled, "Three hours, that's it. Then I'm gonna see DiNozzo whether he's in ICU or not."

"Very well." Ducky added sternly, "And don't spend too long in conversation with young Mr Quinn, Jethro - you have not been doing your lungs any favours lately, and they do _not_ need the unnecessary exertion."

The former Marine nodded impatiently, and after a last considering look, Ducky went to find Nicky.

A few minutes later, that Gibbs spent alternately wondering how Tony was getting along, and trying to stop himself from conjuring up various worst case scenarios, Nicky appeared at the open door and knocked nervously on the doorframe.

Gibbs nodded his head at the boy and he stepped in, hovering indecisively at the foot of the older man's bed before pushing back his shoulders resolutely and meeting Gibbs's eyes.

"How are you?" Nicky asked, and then winced a little at himself for asking such an obvious question.

Gibbs didn't bother to reply, instead indicating with his hand to the nearby chair. "Take a seat kid."

Nicky did as he was told, though he perched on the edge of the chair as if he might need to spring out of it at any moment, and looked at Gibbs again.

"Um, do you know how Tony is?" The young man inquired gingerly and Gibbs replied abruptly, ignoring his scratchy voice the best he could, "He's in ICU - s'all I know."

"I'm sorry," Nicky barely let him finish his answer before apologising.

Until Gibbs was sure that Tony was going to be okay, he felt there was no way he could forgive the boy, even though it had been clear that the shot had been a mistake. So he settled for a diplomatic answer of, "Tony won't blame you - it was an accident."

The one and only time he had chosen to be subtle didn't pay off for Nicky picked up on what Gibbs's carefully worded response was concealing. Dark brown eyes studied him briefly before they dropped to the floor. "But you do."

The former Marine said nothing, his silence speaking quite clearly for him.

Nicky swallowed hard, and Gibbs realised with what may have been a twinge of guilt that the boy was teetering on the edge of tears. For the space of a heartbeat, the lead agent selfishly wished that someone else was here to deal with him - emotions were not his strong suit, and nor were words.

Then he caught himself, and was thoroughly disgusted at the callousness of his thoughts - since when had he become so self-centered? The teenager must have been through some experience, to drive him to try and take his own life - and Gibbs had been there himself.

"Look, Nicky - " the older man began, but the teenager shook his head violently in refusal to listen to absolving words he felt he had no right to hear, a stray tear flicking away with the movement.

"I'm sorry, honestly, he should have just left me!" Nicky leapt to his feet and made for the door with a rapidity that took Gibbs by surprise.

"Nicky!" The former Marine's voice was the same no-nonsense tone he often used on Tony and it caused the boy to stop dead in his tracks.

Pushing back the covers, Gibbs got up and went over to the young man. "It was a mistake - and Tony won't blame you," he repeated what he had expressed earlier, and then added softly, "and I don't blame you either kid."

Nicky didn't look up, arms coiled around himself in an almost child-like display of vulnerability as he stared at the floor - and that was what undid Gibbs.

He reached out and chucked the kid gently under the chin, trying not to draw too many comparisons between him and Tony, though unable to help the memory of when the agent had been framed for murder and been held in jail coming to the fore.

That simple gesture caused Nicky to screw his eyes shut, though that did nothing stop the tears that had began to leak out and with a quiet sigh, Gibbs reached out and placed an arm around the distraught teenager, letting him cling onto him for support as he cried.

* * *

**Tony's POV**

When he awoke blearily, Tony thought for a moment that there was something seriously wrong with his sight, for the walls and the ceiling he could see were just blurs. Then his ears popped, and his hearing returned, alerting him to the medical commotion going on all around him as he realised that he was on a gurney being pushed through hospital corridors.

He didn't lose consciousness after that, but everything he saw and heard felt a little...woolly, a little undefined and separated, to the extent that when he heard his name and registered the familiar face of Doctor Bradley Pitt, he jolted in surprise.

"Alright Tony. Your breathing doesn't sound too good at the moment and I don't think the scarring on your lungs is helping, so I'm going to put this mask on you - the straps will just slip around the back of your head to hold it in place, and it'll lessen the work it takes for you to breathe - alright?"

Tony nodded and the doctor helped him into a sitting position, before slipping a set of straps over his head and settling a mask over his nose and mouth.

As his breathing became easier, the fuzziness surrounding his mind receded slowly. Then suddenly the sounds of medical jargon and seemingly meaningless numbers that were being thrown around the room became background noise as the SFA realised his side felt oddly numb - and looked down to see that it was swathed in bandages.

"You're okay Tony - the bullet hit and cracked the outside of a rib, and was deflected off of it. There's some skin and muscle tissue damage, but no internal damage."

The explosive sigh of relief Tony attempted to release backfired abruptly, and his chest tightened as though it was being crushed as coughs racked his body. Tony's mouth gaped open as he tried to draw in a breath but his lungs suddenly seemed so much smaller and he could only breathe in short, shallow gasps.

They did nothing to help dispel the sudden painful thumping he could feel in his temple as he searched almost instinctively for Gibbs - he was inevitably present when Tony was hurt, it was a given - but when the older man's comforting presence was nowhere to be found, he shook his head from one side to the other agitatedly, trying to dislodge the mask so he could ask for him.

Dr Pitt squeezed Tony's shoulder gently as he surmised the cause of the young man's distress. "I'll explain why Gibbs isn't here Tony, but you need to keep that mask on and breathe slowly and evenly."

Tony nodded slightly before focusing on Pitt expectantly, only to find the same expectancy mirrored on the doctor's face.

The SFA realised that his breathing was still hitching and guided by the doctor's instruction, concentrated on leveling it out, with eventual success.

Only then did his information come. "Agent Gibbs is undergoing treatment for pulmonary edema caused by water inhalation - there was water in his lungs," the doctor explained, adding immediately at the sudden tension in the agent's eyes and posture, "He's expected to recover fine - he'll be kept in for observation overnight. I bet he's been thoroughly interrogating anyone who enters his room for information on your condition." That brought a small smile onto Tony's face beneath the mask; that sounded likely enough.

"If everything goes well, you'll be able to see him in 4 - 6 hours. Alright?"

Tony nodded shakily, a slight tremor running through his body and the doctor eyed him concernedly. "Cold?" He asked.

The Italian nodded, and then shook his head, before tilting his hand from side to side in the universal sign of '_sort of._'

The doctor leaned forward to look into his red and irritated eyes, and then pulled away, brows furrowed as if in thought. "Headache?"

Tony nodded gingerly and Pitt called one of the nurses over. "I need a blood sample," he said, and the senior field agent wished more than ever that Gibbs was at his side - for Pitt's suddenly serious tone of voice was doing nothing at all for his nerves.

* * *

**Please leave your thoughts in a review - I don't feel 100% satisfied with this chappie for some reason :(**

**~ Qalam**


	9. Chapter 9

**Tony's POV**

The mask obscuring Tony's face meant that he couldn't talk, but his emphatic gesture was enough to express his question of _'why?'_ as he gave the nurse poised with the nasty looking needle a wary look.

Ducky's face appeared in the window of the door and at that moment Tony couldn't remember a time when he had been more glad to see the elderly ME. His expression must have said as much for Pitt turned to look in the direction of the agent's gaze, and upon seeing Ducky, aimed a wry grin over his shoulder at Tony and walked towards the door.

Opening it, he stepped outside to talk to Ducky, both men remaining within the Italian's line of sight. Catching the medical examiner's eye, Tony mouthed_ 'Gibbs?'_ and received an encouraging smile in response.

His left hand was fiddling nervously with the bandages covering his gunshot wound but the nurse, still wielding the needle, cleared her throat and gave him a stern look and he pulled the offending appendage away from the injury hurriedly.

Returning his attention to what he could see of the two men, he saw that they were still deep in discussion, and shifted impatiently on the bed.

A few minutes later, Dr Pitt pushed open the door, pausing only to share one last comment over his shoulder with Ducky, before returning to stand by Tony's bedside once more. He issued a few brief instructions to the nurse, as a result of which the needle was removed from the vicinity of his body, and the SFA relaxed a little as the doctor began to speak.

"Okay Tony, so here's what we're going to do. Your condition is stable enough that I feel it's safe to transfer you from ICU - for now." The qualifier quashed any relief that Tony felt at that news and Pitt saw that as he added, "You may be allowed a visitor too, if you're good and let us take a blood sample."

Tony's pale face gained some colour as a brief grin flitted across it, and he turned his head obediently to allow the nurse removing the CPAP mask better access. Barely had the straps loosened that he asked, widening his green eyes pleadingly, "Gibbs, and then the needle?"

Pitt knew about the young man's aversion to them from when Tony had contracted the plague, but on that occasion there had been no time to pander to the agent's fears and he had been forced to take the blood despite Tony's weak yet agitated protests. So it was with a glad heart that this time, he inclined his head in agreement and began to make preparations for Tony's transfer, although his keen ears did not miss the heavy exhale from the patient occupying the bed.

* * *

Seeing Ducky enter the room, both Gibbs and Nicky stood from where they had been sat on the bed occupied in quiet conversation.

The medical examiner noted Nicky's red eyes but refrained from commenting, instead beginning his update, acutely aware of two pairs of eyes scrutinising his face as if a report Tony's health was inscribed upon it.

"He's awake and coherent - a big part of that due to your prompt rescue Jethro. The bullet deflected off a rib, and cracked it, but there's been no organ or nerve damage."

Some of the tension in Nicky's posture fled and Ducky spared a moment to smile kindly at the young man, before continuing a little more gravely, "There may however be a slight complication - it could be nothing more than a false alarm, but Anthony is exhibiting some of the symptoms of leptospirosis, that are often very similar to those of the flu - a test of a blood sample from our young man will be sufficient to confirm either way."

"Have they taken blood from him yet?" The question from Gibbs was abrupt and as soon as Ducky shook his head in the negative, his blue eyes darted to the door and he moved towards it, a purpose and determination clear in his long strides.

The ME stepped in his way and took ahold of the Marine's arm. "Jethro - "

But Gibbs cut him off irritably. "You know Tony hates hospitals Duck, and needles - and if he's basically alright then they can damn well let me in!' The pent-up anxiety burst out of the lead agent and Ducky tightened his grip on his forearm against Gibbs's attempt to jerk it away. His eyes glinted behind the lenses of his glasses and he smiled gently. "Anthony is indeed well enough - in fact so much so that they have decided to transfer him from ICU - however, had I known it would've offended you so, I'd've allowed you to go charging off in the wrong direction."

In the face of the dry correction from the man who was always one of the reliable constants for him in times like these; so reliable in fact it was easy to take him for granted, Gibbs paused and let a genuine smile spread on his face for the first time since Tony had been shot, raising a hand to squeeze his friend's shoulder. "Thanks Duck." Then he cast out his other hand towards the door in invitation, "Lead the way."

Ducky patted the hand on his shoulder briefly, and then turned as Gibbs removed it, heading for the door - and Tony - without any further ado.

Gibbs took a step forward after him, before turning to look at Nicky, who had had a small smile playing on his lips as he watched the conversation.

"Come on," Gibbs tilted his head towards the ME as he disappeared around the corner of the door and smirked, the relief he felt at the mostly good news showing in his almost-DiNozzo-like remark of, "Ducky's faster than he looks, you know."

"I heard that Jethro!" came the sage retort from the out-of-sight man, and Nicky grinned widely as he followed Gibbs's hasty strides out of the room.

* * *

**Thank you as always for your support and please drop a review - the chapter may have been a little shorter than some of you would have liked, but I didn't want to leave you without an update any longer, and my studies have been taking up a considerable amount of time. They may be sporadic, but the updates will come, promise =)**

**~ Qalam**


	10. Chapter 10

**Every time I get an alert saying 'New review' in my inbox, it's amazing and I love reading all of your thoughts - there is nothing better to keep an author going with a story than reviews :)**

**To all of you who favourite and follow, you too are really appreciated - leave a line or two this time? :P**

**And of course, I don't own these guys - with the exception of Nicky.**

* * *

**Tony's POV**

Settling back against the plumped up pillows, Tony felt his spirits rise as he looked around the private room he had been transferred to - although he had no fondness for hospitals in general, ICU was always the place he dreaded the most, and he could never rid himself of the memories of the plague that had become attached to it – it was no wonder that he had been unable to bring himself to relax fully in that atmosphere.

Observing his patient, Dr Pitt noted the slight but important change in Tony's attitude and the new ease in his breathing, and nodded to himself - he had made the right call, that much he was certain of - now if only Tony's blood sample would come back clear from leptospirosis bacteria, the man would be well on his way to recovery and release.

Meanwhile, Tony was staring at the vein in his left arm and trying to prepare himself for the unpleasant experience of having blood taken. And so until he heard Dr Pitt say, "Agent Gibbs, good to see you!" he was totally unaware of the older man's presence.

Snapping his head up so fast spots danced before his eyes, Tony saw Gibbs standing a couple of feet from the end of his bed, a smirk on his lips as he observed the younger man's reaction.

* * *

**Gibbs' POV**

Gibbs saw that Tony was staring at his arm, a small furrow between his brows and took that moment to make a quick assessment for himself of Tony's health.

His face was paler than usual, and his side was wrapped in bandages but apart from that Tony seemed to be okay and Gibbs felt some of the worry inside of him slip away.

"Agent Gibbs, good to see you!" Turning his attention to the doctor momentarily, the lead agent nodded in reply and shook the outstretched hand, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched his SFA's head shoot upward in surprise.

Making his way over to the bed, he stood within touching distance and, looking down at a Tony who was almost a picture of health, he compared him against the Tonys of various scenarios, past and imagined - for a moment, thankfulness rendered him at a complete loss as to what to say.

Luckily for him, Tony was more than proficient in that department and grinned up at him. "Hi Boss. I take it you got the pizza alright?"

Gibbs stifled the wide grin that wanted to spread across his face, and played his customary part to perfection, with an exasperated, "Do ya ever think _without_ your stomach DiNozzo?"

Tony reeled back in mock–hurt, "Boss!"

Unfortunately, the banter didn't prevent Tony from noticing the needle that had appeared in Pitt's hand, and Gibbs saw him shy away a little, pulling his left arm towards his stomach in an unconsciously protective gesture.

The Marine thought fast. "DiNozzo!"

Tony turned to him out of force of habit, though he glanced back nervously at Pitt as the doctor swabbed the skin over the vein. "You watched all the Bond movies?"

The younger man tilted his head with a complacent smile, his complete attention now on the lead agent. "Oh_ come on_ Boss, course I have!"

"_All_ of them?" Gibbs kept his expression decidedly disbelieving and Tony took the bait - hook, line and sinker - and began reeling off the comprehensive list.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gibbs saw Pitt move the needle towards Tony's arm and promptly broke in on Tony's spiel with a casual "Really – _that's_ a Bond?"

The SFA turned to him in complete bewilderment as he lost track of what he had said and closed his eyes in concentration as he began to backtrack – and Pitt slipped the needle in, withdrew the blood and took it out again before he had time to react.

"What - " Tony looked from Pitt who was wearing a broad grin, a syringe full of blood in his hand, to Gibbs and pouted as he realised what had happened. "That's just sneaky Boss," he complained and Gibbs looked at him askance.

"Rather have watched it go in, would ya?"

Tony conceded the point with a slight shudder, and Gibbs placed a hand on his shoulder almost absently, as he asked, "How soon can we expect the results?"

All seriousness once more, Pitt replied, "We'll know either way by morning. As for now, I'd recommend that you get some rest Tony, and you too Agent Gibbs."

Tony didn't protest and neither did Gibbs, the latter instead pointedly hooking his foot around a nearby chair to pull it closer, and then dropping himself into it with an air of finality.

Neither Ducky nor Pitt showed any sign of surprise at this display of paternal protectiveness, although the young doctor did tell the lead agent rather firmly that, 'I'll organise for a cot be brought in, and I expect it to have been actually _used_ come morning.'

All this while, Nicky had been standing by the door, observing the easy interaction between the three men with eyes that may have held a hint of envy.

Gibbs, who had – understandably – all but forgotten about the young man upon seeing Tony, looked up and gave himself a mental head slap as he caught sighht of Nicky shifting nervously from foot to foot, before beginning to inch towards the door, no doubt hoping to slip out unobserved.

He gave Tony a gentle nudge, and when the brunette looked at him in question, tilted his head towards the door. Pitt moved from Tony's line of sight to catalogue the blood sample and get it sent to the labs, and the SFA looked up and saw the kid who was the reason for the hazy, panicked - and if he were completely honest - _scary_ last few hours.

"Nicky!" Tony's exclamation caused the teen to stop in his tracks, a flush of embarrassment colouring his cheeks.

Gibbs winced a little, and rose from his chair in a rare show of tact to move and stand beside Ducky to give the two young men some room.

Almost reluctantly, Nicky came to stand by Tony's bedside, and the agent studied his face intently, before asking, "Alright?"

Nicky opened his mouth, and if anything, his blush deepened and he stuttered, eyes flickering briefly to the two older men on the other side of the bed.

Ducky and Gibbs exchanged a glance, and right on cue, the ME turned his back to both young men and faced Gibbs, before launching into the narration of a convoluted tale that provided enough covering noise to grant Nicky the illusion of privacy.

* * *

**Tony's POV**

The teenager slowly became less flustered, and rubbed a hand tiredly across his eyes, before asking with a nod towards Tony's bandaged side, almost shyly, "I'm sorry. Does it hurt much?"

Tony shrugged without thinking, and the movement sent a sharp twinge through his side. Evidently it showed on his face too, for Nicky winced and answered his own question, "I'll take that as a yes then." A pause as he studied his fingers intently, and then he swallowed and spoke once more.

"I'm really sorry," he repeated, and Tony reached out to punch his arm gently. "It's alright Nicky – it was just an accident, could've happened to anyone."

An eyebrow raised show Nicky's scepticism at that, but he didn't refute Tony's assurance.

"I'm moving," he said abruptly, "Going to live with my aunt and uncle."

"You wanna go?" The senior field agent asked just as suddenly, trying to gauge whether Nicky was happy about the change, and was somewhat relieved to see the kid's posture relax a little as he shrugged.

"I get on better with my cousins than with my older brother, and my aunt and uncle are pretty cool..." he tailed off, looking up at Tony. "It should be good, like a...a - " the teenager struggled to express his thoughts in words.

"Like a fresh start," Tony finished for him quietly, resting his head back against the propped up pillows behind his head as a wave of exhaustion washed over him.

Nicky's expression showed barely concealed surprise. "Yeah! Yeah," he said again, with less of the shock, and then added, "I'm leaving tomorrow – but, uh," his hand twitched in an abortive movement towards the pocket of his jeans where his mobile was tucked into, and Tony realised what he was trying to say.

The Italian began to pat his pockets - or at least, where his pockets would have been before realising belatedly that he was wearing a hospital gown, and casting his eyes around the room instead, with a mutter of, _'Pen, pen, pen...'_

Helpfully, Ducky retrieved one from an inside pocket of his jacket, and passed it to the man along with a slip of paper, on which Tony scribbled his number and handed it to Nicky.

"Call me when you get a chance. I meant what I said back then," he added earnestly.

Dark eyes held solemn green for a moment as both of them relived those fatal few minutes in fast forward, and Nicky's head tilted slightly, as if he were trying to gauge Tony's sincerity.

"I will," he replied eventually, a small smile growing on his lips in response to Tony's hundred-watt reaction to his acquiescence.

Meanwhile, Ducky stifled a yawn of his own as the worry and need for action that had concealed the fact it was nearing late evening receded, and Gibbs looked up at his friend with an eyebrow raised. "You should be heading home Duck," he began, anticipating the ME's next words as he added, "I'll let you know if anything comes up."

The older man smiled in response and moved over to Tony, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. "Take care dear boy, and get some rest. I shall see you in the morning."

He received a quietly sincere, "Thanks Ducky," in return and inclined his head in response.

Gibbs began to get up from where he had resettled into the chair by Tony's side but the astute ME stopped him from moving from his position with a hand on his shoulder. "Stay where you are needed Jethro," he told him quietly.

"I should be going too." The teen hesitated and then leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "You're really lucky to have them to look out for you."

Then he pulled away and Tony nodded in response. "I know," he said seriously, before reaching out to shake Nicky's hand firmly. "Take care Nicky."

"You too Tony," Nicky replied, before nodding shyly to Gibbs. "Sir."

Gibbs dipped his head slightly in reply as Ducky gathered Nicky with an outstretched arm and the two left the room, the older man drawing the teenager into the beginnings of casual conversation, and dimming the lights rather pointedly on his way out.

And then, for the first time since the shot, the two agents were alone yet together.

* * *

**You know what this space is reserved for asking for :P**

**~ Qalam**


	11. Chapter 11

**So, I had my last mid-semester exam yesterday, and I've been meaning to update this story for what seems like donkey's years - I've had half of this chapter written for a while, but my muse promptly went on holiday. However, today, I sat myself down, re-read a page or two of your lovely reviews, lassoed the muse - and here you have it - my longest chapter of 2176 words, according to Microsoft Word! =D **

**Don't own, and don't want to either! :P**

* * *

**Tony's POV**

The faint noises that made up the hospital – of gurneys trundling down corridors, the quiet hum of machinery, and the equally quiet tones of humans, fraught with a kaleidoscope of emotions - could be heard in the quiet of Room 21, though they seemed to filter through an unexplainable veil, as if the situation there was set apart somehow, and all the rules that governed rest of the world no longer applied in that lone, plain hospital room.

But of course, that was all completely fanciful thinking on Tony's part, no doubt helped along on its way by the painkillers – despite the fact they had been of a mild strength, his adverse reaction to them had been just the same.

Glancing at Gibbs out of the corner of his eye as he shifted his position on the hospital bed, trying to covertly recline without actually making any noise, Tony saw that the agent was seated in the bedside chair somewhat uprightly, eyes fixed on a point by the glass panel in the door through which yellow light spilled, the only source of illumination in the otherwise dark room.

Had it been left to Gibbs, the silence may not have been broken for some minutes to come, but Tony's stomach was unthinking of the atmosphere in the room when it rumbled loudly, effectively shattering the sombre mood.

The half of Gibbs' face that Tony could see was incredulous and the agent shifted once more, flustered.

"Well, I didn't get to eat did I?" he said defensively, before realising belatedly that the Marine had also been deprived of his dinner and adding, "_And_ I've been through a stressful experience."

As used to as Tony was to Gibbs' silence, it was considerably unnerving to not even have facial expression (well, _complete_ facial expression anyway) to gauge the man's reactions and thoughts by, so the young man lapsed into an awkward silence, feeling more at unease than he had in Gibbs' company in a long time.

Reaching out, he fiddled with the lever that adjusted the height of the head of the bed until it was totally horizontal, and lay back, pulling the sheet up to his chin with a shiver as his mind drifted back to the blood test. He couldn't deny the nervousness he was feeling about the results to himself, and closed his eyes with an almost inaudible sigh – he resented the way this place had the effect of reducing him to a conglomeration of highly-strung nerves – it wasn't exactly as if he was twelve anymore was it?

As if to prove his point, Gibbs' chair creaked as he changed his position, and Tony started visibly, eyes snapping open and hands curling reflexively in the blanket before he forced them to relax.

"DiNozzo?" The marine's inquiry was abrupt as he sat forward, and Tony replied quickly, "Yeah Boss?" before wincing at the loud volume of his voice in the hush of the room.

"You alright?"

"'Course – just thinking about that poor uneaten pizza," Tony's response was automatically flippant and unseen to him, Gibbs' eyes narrowed slightly. He reached out a hand silently and without warning, tapped the younger man's arm.

The upper arm beneath his finger was tense, and Tony recoiled with a cut-off cry, even as he grabbed the offending appendage and twisted.

That was before he realised it was Gibbs' hand that he had in a death grip and let it loose with alacrity.

"Just thinking about pizza DiNozzo?"

Tony watched as Gibbs moved from the chair towards the door, and belatedly realised the older man's intention when he heard the click of the light switch. Throwing his hand rather hastily over his eyes, he manoeuvred into an upright position unsteadily, feeling another shiver run through his tired body.

"What've you got to prove?" Gibbs asked abruptly, and Tony was thrown at what seemed to him a completely out-of-the-blue question.

He watched with a growing sense of panic as Gibbs span on his heel when no answer seems to be forthcoming, pulled open the door to the room and slipped out.

Mouth half-open though no words had come from it, Tony stared blankly at the door as it slowly fell to, shutting with a distinct click. _Gibbs had just left him – just like that!?_

But before he could do anything rash, the door re-opened and revealed Gibbs – blankets in his hands – and Tony hastily rearranged his features into a neutral expression, even as he felt a considerable amount of relief wash over him.

* * *

**Gibbs' POV**

"Just thinking about pizza DiNozzo?" The lead agent's tone was casually unassuming as he got up and crossed over to the light switch, flipping it on without ceremony, ignoring the faint protest from Tony as he squinted blearily, one hand thrown over his eyes.

Gibbs surveyed the brunette from where he was standing, and then shook his head a little in incomprehension at the sight of the occasional shiver of cold running through the younger man, though he had stubbornly said not a word.

Not the most patient of men at the best of times, the surge of annoyance that rose in Gibbs at the sight was immediately expressed through his terse comment of, "What've you got to prove?" before he turned around and walked out; mainly to requisition another blanket or two, but partly also because he wasn't quite confident that if he stayed in there any longer, he would be able to stop himself from saying something he would have regretted.

If he was honest with himself, Gibbs was a little more than out of his depth in this situation - and it was not fair to the younger man either, who was probably always second guessing himself with every action, as the _re_action it would receive was highly dependent on the mood Gibbs was in - and that wasn't always the easiest thing to gauge; he had taken inscrutability and turned it into an art; and was pretty proud of the fact too.

But there was most definitely a part of him that wished that he hadn't made it quite so clear what the second B in his name stood for - with regards to the SFA sitting in the hospital bed anyway, and as he took the blankets from the helpful nurse with a nod of thanks, Gibbs decided that he was going to _(God help him)_ take a page from DiNozzo's book and just say whatever came into his head.

One hand occupied with the blankets, Gibbs used his shoulder to push the door open and as he sidestepped in and let it fall closed behind him, the look he observed on Tony's face was one of such profound relief that the marine was rooted to the spot with confusion.

Then it clicked - _surely Tony hadn't thought..._

His well-intentioned thoughts flying out of the window, Gibbs kept his mouth firmly closed as he walked over to the bed and unceremoniously snapped out the blankets, letting them billow over the bed before they settled neatly over Tony.

"Uh, thanks Boss." The expression of gratitude was followed by an awkward pause, and then Gibbs remembered his earlier resolution and said, "No problem."

If Gibbs had not been a little disturbed by the fact that his courtesy was so unexpected that it made Tony freeze with shock, he would have found the bug-eyed expression somewhat amusing, and would've no doubt conjured up a snarky comment to caption the tableau.

As it was, he settled for sitting back in the plastic chair and saying bluntly, "Talk to me Tony."

* * *

**Tony's POV**

Shifting his blankets one way and then the other, not unlike a cat making itself a comfortable tangle of sheets on which to sleep, Tony looked at Gibbs somewhat warily.

To be honest, Tony wasn't sure he liked this new,_ let's-talk-about-things_ Gibbs - for the first thing, he had no idea how to deal with an openly caring vision of the marine, especially not on a day-to-day basis. And it was that fear of the unknown, of laying himself open to something that he had no estimation of that left him oscillating between the ingrained need for affection and the fear of getting hurt one time too many – he had put his trust and faith in Gibbs, but he'd rather that the older man kept his distance and let him bask in the thought that the lead agent cared, even if it were just an illusion, rather than let the man get close and then find out that he was reading into the relationship between mentor and student nuances that weren't there. And yes, Tony knew that that preference could by no means be the sign of anything healthy; he didn't need a shrink to tell him that he was just a _little_ messed up when it came to his approach to platonic relationships.

His verbal response however, was to ask a little tentatively, "What about?"

"How about telling me about the reason you're in this hospital bed now?" Gibbs prompted.

"You mean Nicky?"

"Nope."

"Oh, you mean..." Tony closed one hand around the other under the blankets almost unconsciously and shrugged a little. "We talked about it already."

"But that wasn't all, was it - there's something else."

"What gives you that idea?" Green eyes widened innocently, but there was a clear sense of panic welling inside Tony's chest – he'd rather go through the whole nightmare discussion again, complete with coffee snorting and all, rather than discuss his insecurities – there was a line he had drawn around himself, and no-one got past that – not even Gibbs; that boundary kept him safe – a little distant, but safe.

"Tony, I'm not blind - those bags under your eyes quite blatantly show that you haven't been sleeping well since before Maddy and I almost drowned - so what is it?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Tony said firmly, adding when Gibbs opened his mouth, "and I don't need to either Boss."

The use of his title was his way of maintaining distance, but it was too late for that - Gibbs was invested in Tony, and he didn't give up on something once he'd started.

"Yeah, well - " he paused for a moment, waiting for Tony to look up in expectation, and then in a movement as sudden as pulling off a verbal Band-Aid, he threw open his well-built defences and said, "_I_ need you to talk about it."

"You don't have to talk about it ever again, and I won't mention it - but I can't watch your six if I don't know what's going on Tony, and that's something I won't accept."

There - he had said it; now it was up to Tony.

Said man's face drained of its colour. "Gibbs..." he muttered, and the word seemed to be protest and plea rolled into one. "I can't."

"Why?"

"I just can't, okay? You have to leave it at that, or...or..." A deep breath and suddenly the green eyes were shaded, hidden, and for a second Gibbs was reminded irresistibly of a stray animal withdrawing into the shadows as Tony pulled away, a glance darting towards the door, "or you have to leave."

Shock made Gibbs speechless, but righteous anger loosened his tongue once more, and having reached the end of his very short tether, Gibbs' inner censor disengaged and he leaned forward, eyes intense. "How long are you going to keep pushing people who care about you away huh? People who lo – "

The door opened and a nurse entered unwittingly, bearing a collapsible cot, no doubt courtesy of one Dr Pitt, and Tony's last pills of the day.

She stopped immediately as the older man sat in the bed side chair twisted around, and pinned her to the spot with a glare of such intensity that it seemed to go right through her. It was a frozen moment before the blue gaze pulled away, and the man stood abruptly to cross over to the window, body tense.

Tony mustered a smile for the nurse from God knows where, though relief perhaps played a part in it, and the fact that he took the pills without even so much as a murmur of protest and obligingly lay down at the nurse's gentle chiding that he should be resting, was a clear sign of just how unwilling he was to continue the previous conversation.

Setting up the cot with a quiet efficiency, the nurse left the room, turning the lights off at Tony's quiet request.

That was followed by silence, and turned on his side, back to Gibbs, the younger man heard soft footfalls and then a creak as the marine settled onto the cot.

"Tony, think about it...please?"

Tony's eyes were open as he listened to Gibbs, widened at the word 'please', but his lips remained stubbornly sealed.

* * *

**Please drop a review - I really hope I haven't lost those of you who've been with ****_Reassurance _****from the beginning, and if you're new to this story, let me know what you think too? =)**

**~ Qalam **


	12. Chapter 12

**Your continued support equals my continued updating - for I reckon this would've just gathered dust after the first few chapters - so thank you! =)**

**Don't own.**

* * *

**Gibbs' POV**

He lay awake, distinctly aware of the fact that he had more than likely just gone and messed everything up more than before. Arms crossed on his chest over the blanket as he stared up at the white ceiling, he wondered briefly – almost despairingly - whether he should just let it go, like Tony wanted him to.

Eventually Gibbs concluded, and not without some reluctance, that he might just have to wait Tony out, and hope that what for him had amounted to a plea might have made an impression – and boy, did that conclusion rankle.

As he brooded over the predicament he had dug himself into, the previous night of keeping vigil over Tony's bedside – and wasn't that starting to become something of a habit? – crept up on him, and situated itself firmly on his eyelids.

Gibbs blinked hard, brought a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Tilting his head to his left, towards where he could make the silhouette of the hospital bed, and the non-descript lump that was his senior field agent, he listened, breath held.

The pills seemed to have done their job, for the breathing that Gibbs could hear was steady and even, and after Tony was still sleeping undisturbed a few minutes later, the marine finally allowed himself to succumb to sleep.

* * *

The manner in which he awoke a few hours later was much more abrupt, and he stayed quite still as his eyes darted around the room, and he recalled where he was.

Looking over to the bed, he saw that his SFA was no longer sleeping peacefully, and half-moved to sit up with a call of "DiN - Tony?"

A whimper – there was no other word for it - emanated from the form cocooned under the blankets, and broke in on his still-rebooting mind. Gibbs remembered the potential diagnosis with a rush of something that could possibly be categorised as panic, and swung his legs off the cot with such haste that he almost overbalanced said cot, and fell to the floor in an undignified heap.

As it was, he just caught himself and untangled the blanket from around his body with a forced calm, depositing it without a backward glance on the cot as he crossed to Tony in two long strides.

Reaching out, he teased the covers away from Tony's face. The sweat on the pale face glistened with an unhealthy sheen, and Gibbs called his name again. When that too seemed to do little more than increase his distress, he placed a hand on his shoulder and shook it gently, and then not-so-gently.

"Tony. _Tony_, wake up."

The lead agent moved to perch on the edge of the bed and used his other hand to turn the agent's head towards him, Tony's brows drawing together in response as he frowned in his sleep, expression somewhere between confusion and upset.

Tony's eyelids crinkled, and then his eyes flew open, and Gibbs saw with concern that his pupils were blown wide - illness...or _fear?_

The Italian struggled to sit upright, breathing raggedly, and Gibbs quickly grabbed at him as he listed dangerously in the direction of the floor. Tony hissed softly as his boss unwittingly jolted his ribs in manoeuvring him, and the marine promptly released him.

Eyes wide and unfocused, Tony rested back awkwardly against the now-flat pillows in lieu of Gibbs' support, and fought for composure.

"'M sorry for waking you up. Everything's just a bit..." Tony waved his hand in circles, as if he were mixing something, "mushed up."

"It's the drugs DiNozzo, I know. Not your fault." Gibbs eyed Tony as he spoke, a slight crease lining his forehead. There was something more vulnerable, more open about his SFA now, reminiscent of the night that had started all this. But that was a two-edged sword for that very vulnerability made the marine hold his tongue – Tony seemed so unsuspecting, it didn't seem fair to ask anything of him now; it'd feel like...like taking advantage. And if the trust between them was broken by his unrepentant probing in the wrong situation, then he could wave goodbye to any hope of figuring out what was wrong altogether.

The younger man was silent for a minute. Then, seemingly out of the blue he said, "I was dreaming of when _he_ left me in Maui," a barely audible intake of breath, almost as if Tony had not expected those words to leave his mouth. "Only for a couple of days," came a rushed clarification, and Gibbs bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from expressing just what he thought of any father who would abandon his child in so off-handed a manner, a red flag waving frantically in his mind at the fact Tony was attempting to downplay the man's action.

But what stood out head and shoulders above even that was that it was an unprompted admission on the younger man's part - _progess?_

Fumbling for something neutral, Gibbs registered the emphasis on 'he', and spoke bluntly.

"I won't leave you - not if I can help it."

"I know." Came the simplest of replies. "I just wish..."

Gibbs waited in anticipation, then prompted, "Wish what Tony?"

"That, uh...nothing." A gap barely the length of a heartbeat, and then Tony blurted, "Kelly was so lucky!"

For a moment, Gibbs felt nauseous, recalling the images of Kelly and Shannon swimming before his eyes as he heard that one line informing him of their death, which had brought his whole world crashing down about him.

Then Tony realised exactly what he had just said, and his breath caught.

"I didn't mean it like that. I - "

"I know you didn't." The words were hollow, forced, and as Gibbs stood abruptly, Tony saw with a mounting horror that the blue eyes had an unusually bright sheen about them.

Fists clenched by his sides, the former Marine made for the door, and solitude, in what for him was a reflexive response. Tony, panicked and still a little disoriented from his painkillers, pushed back the covers and tried to follow him, to make things right. In his haste, the covers tangled around his legs and he tumbled helplessly to the ground.

In all fairness to Gibbs, he almost immediately recalled his barely-minutes-old affirmation of not leaving, and was already turning around, but still he was only in time to see Tony scrunch himself into a protective ball on the floor. He swore and leapt to his side, dropping down beside him.

* * *

**Tony's POV**

Tony landed hard on his left side, inciting a screaming pain courtesy of his cracked rib and bullet wound, and curled in on himself reflexively, eyes screwed shut and teeth sunk deep in his lower lip to stop himself from crying out.

His lungs felt as though they were shrinking with each breath he tried to take in, and his position upon the floor wasn't helping any.

Someone - _no, Gibbs_ - was saying something, something important by the sounds of it, but he just couldn't **breathe **and nothing else held a candle to that feeling of heavy, oppressive warmth that had settled on his chest as he tried to gasp in air.

His side was a mass of live wires that electricity danced between, and as Tony felt himself being manoeuvred upright, expletives, pleas, and apologies fell from his lips in a continuous mangled stream of words that flowed unchecked.

The pressure on his chest eased off a fraction, and the pain began to fade into a dull yet insistent throb as a trickle of oxygen made its way to his frantically palpitating heart. Tony endeavoured steady his breathing, and as he drew what felt like his first deep breath of sweet oxygen and it shuddered through him, he opened his eyes.

Swaying, he struggled to focus as Gibbs scanned him with an intense gaze, and then Tony felt the hand that had been keeping him vertical travel up to the back of his head - and guide it carefully to his boss's right shoulder.

If an action had ever been more meaningful to him, Tony could no longer recall it, and as he felt a rough, callused hand settle on the nape of his neck, a wave of guilt crashed down on him.

He knew this plain expression of care didn't come naturally to Gibbs, but the man had been making a herculean effort the last few days, and how had he repaid him?

And yet Gibbs was still here, _holding_ him for God's sake...was he really worth it? _No_, was the response that Tony's mind answered softly, but Gibbs's action overrode that word in volume almost effortlessly.

The thought of losing his mentor in death caused Tony's chest to constrict, but the thought of losing him in life, through his own actions made him _move_, withdraw from Gibbs's embrace to speak.

But the lead agent immediately pulled away the instant Tony began to, and to the eternal astonishment of his SFA, a flicker of uncertainty passed over the older man's face.

However, the shock was not an unpleasant one, for uncertainty was perhaps the one thing Tony had never really seen in Gibbs; the marine made a decision and then stuck to his guns, come heatstroke or hypothermia, and it oddly reassured the younger man that this was equally unfamiliar territory for Gibbs as it was for him.

And perhaps Gibbs would never know it, but it was that display of (as he would have immediately classified it) weakness, that marked the first true crack in the frosted glass encasing the link between Tony's heart and mind - and such a splinter inevitably marked its disintegration.

* * *

**Let me know what you think, oh you who read! =P**

**~ Qalam**


	13. Chapter 13

**We've hit and ****_surpassed_**** 200 reviews everyone! =D Thank you to all those who made that possible by leaving even a word or two of feedback!**

**I don't own.**

* * *

**Tony's POV**

Barely had they sat back that the door opened, and in rushed a nurse and doctor, no doubt responding to the crash they had heard as Tony fell.

Taking in the situation in one look, the doctor - _Dr C. Rennson,_ as his nametag announced - turned and issued a few brief instructions to the nurse, before making his way swiftly to the two men.

Dropping down on his knees beside the injured agent, the doctor asked him for the details of what had happened, all the while probing the bandaged ribs with expert fingers.

Upon hearing the piecemeal account, Rennson looked from one man to the other, clearly noticing the omissions in the narrative, though evidently deciding not to inquire any further.

Between them, Gibbs and Rennson got Tony carefully to the bed, where he sat quite stiffly upright, afraid that he had caused some damage in the fall that could mean his recovery time had increased substantially.

Unwrapping the bandages, and checking the stitches of the bullet, Rennson gave his prognosis.

"Some of the stitches will need to be redone, but fortunately you don't seem to have done that much more damage to your ribs - had you broken them, it would've set your recovery back a fair while."

Tony visibly relaxed at this news, and Gibbs finally allowed himself to sit down from his standing position, as Rennson set about his work.

"There," he announced after the demise of several minutes. "No more acrobatics please, Mr DiNozzo," he said genially, though a serious undertone in his voice was clear, even as his long fingers darted around nervously, never halting in their movements.

"You should be fine to go back to sleep now, or rest at the very least, for the remainder of the night. I'm afraid I can't give you any more medication until the current dose has run its course - how do you feel?"

"Alright," Tony shrugged, and noticed Gibbs eyeing him sceptically out of the corner of one eye. "Honestly, Boss, I'm fine."

"I didn't say anything DiNozzo," came the usually caustic reply, and Tony grinned in relief - who would've thought he'd be so relieved to hear his name said in that tone?

Gibbs noted his reaction with an inward frown, though he kept his face his its usual neutral - Tony _wanted_ him to be rude and gruff? Since when was everything so bloody complicated!?

Both men seemed to have quite forgotten Rennson's presence in the room, and the doctor looked from one man to the other in no little curiosity and confusion, before interrupting with a gentle cough as his fingers played absently with a biro, unscrewing and re-screwing the bottom.

"If you need me, just ask at the nurses' station - rest please, gentlemen," he reminded bluntly, before taking his leave.

* * *

**Tony's POV**

He tried to sleep – for all of two minutes – before giving it up as hopeless, and lying on his back, staring the vague textures of the ceiling he could make out in the darkness.

His mind wandered, and from the attic of his mind, where all random titbits, trivia, and other useless information settled itself, one suddenly leapt boldly forward.

_"Your intellect may be confused, but your emotions will never lie to you."_

A movie critic, who'd won a prize for said critiquing, Robert Ebert, had said this particular line, and although Tony had dismissed it right out of hand at the time, now it seemed startlingly relevant, despite the fact the context in which it had been said had no doubt been as vastly different to that of his present situation.

It was difficult to isolate one from the other - intellect and emotion were so irrevocably entwined in his mind, the latter tightly fettered by the former, but he was so sick of this confusion that he tried.

The desire that was most prominent in his mind was a desire to hide – hover in a bubble among never-ending darkness and quiet, where there would be no expectations, or fears, or people, or feeling - or _thinking._

The agent shifted a little on his bed, and probed that instinct warily – was that, after all he had tried to please everyone around him, all he wanted – to be left alone?

Pushing a little harder, Tony felt the sensation give a little, and realised the absurdity of the situation with an unpleasant jolt - had he started censoring his thoughts even from himself?

Revelations came in a rush from that one observation. He didn't feel comfortable even in his own head, he didn't know what he wanted, or more importantly, what he needed, and it _scared _him –

A stray breath hitched, caught in the darkness, and scarred lungs constricted as he choked on it, tears burning in his eyes.

A sudden figure loomed over him, and the warmth of a hand ghosted over his blanket-covered arms, seeking and hovering upon a taut fist.

_Gibbs._

* * *

**Gibbs's POV **

He'd watched as Tony had sat up after barely a few minutes, and then felt a sudden twist in his gut as the shoulders hunched over tightly – he'd seen something coming.

But he'd not acted. _Give the man some space, _he'd told the paternal side of him that just wanted to swathe Tony in bubble-wrap,and lock him in an environment where nobody could do him any harm.

Or more realistically, where he could do _himself _no harm, for his SFA was most definitely his own worst enemy.

Then the terrifying sound of rattling breath and choking seemed to billow out like a noxious gas, and fill the room.

Immediately, the older man was up on his feet, crossing the distance to the bed which he had all but calculated from any given point in the room, and found and grasped a blanket-covered hand.

Nails bit into his hand as Tony held on as if Gibbs were the anchor to his ship, but it felt like the most negligible of pain as the father stared dumbly into eyes that usually saw straight through him, frozen for a single moment that could have proved critical.

Then he grasped Tony's shoulders, and managed somehow in a moment that was completed void in his memory afterwards, to bring him back from the panicked haze he had worked himself into.

The replay of that horrible second of inaction resonated in the marine's mind for the rest of the night, until the dawn light stole into the room through the drawn blinds, and Gibbs remained staring at the whitewashed ceiling, unable to stop contemplating what could have been the unearthing of one of the biggest constants in his life, had the situation been more dire. He prided himself on his reflexes – they were a large part of his line of work – but that had been the standard reaction of a _civilian_.

Evidently, dependence was a sword that could cut both ways.

* * *

**Please review!**

**~ Qalam =)**


End file.
